ForgetMeNot
by Fraulein Mezzo
Summary: Hetalia Academy AU. As their time at the international boarding school they are attending is slowly coming to an end, each student has their own little story and memories to share. Each chapter is written from another character's perspective and can be read as a standalone one-shot in case you don't like one or the other pairing, but they all overlap at one point or the other.
1. Vergißmeinnicht

**Forget-Me-Not**

Hetalia Academy AU

Chapter I

**Vergißmeinnicht**

Ludwig x Feliciano

_scroll down for annotations_

* * *

~ 1995 ~

Ludwig Beilschmidt had always been a fundamentally rational child. Even at the age of twelve, he wouldn't believe in things like fate or destiny or kindred spirits. Therefore, all he could call the encounter he made on his very first day at this international boarding school was a truly strange coincidence.

„_Ludwig? Ludwig Beilschmidt? Is-a that really you? Do you remember me?"_

_"I'm sorry"_, Ludwig frowned, trying his hardest to recognize the small Italian boy staring at him expectantly, _"I can't remember where-"_

Had there been any chance of Ludwig remembering, the last thing he would ever have forgotten were these shining eyes that were the warm colour of his happiest childhood days, of summers spent together in his grandfather's garden in that little Bavarian village he used to live in, of fields of daisies, poppies and cornflowers, of the carefree time before everything had changed.

_"It's-a me, Feli. Feliciano Vargas." _The other's smile faded as he realised Ludwig wouldn't be able to recall who he was. _"We used to play together when we were little. I think you thought I was a girl, though…" _He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, eagerly waiting for the other's expression to change.

The brown-haired boy's weird gestures and words brought a small smile to the German's lips, still he wouldn't be able to make any sense of them. No matter how hard he tried, he could not remember any little boy or even girl that looked anything like that Feliciano, just as he could not remember his grandfather or anything else that had happened up to the time shortly after his seventh birthday.

Feliciano looked disappointed, almost on the verge of tears. Ludwig felt sorry for him. They must have been very good friends.

_"That's-a him?!"_, another boy that looked very much like Feliciano, probably his older brother, suddenly chimed in, _"Are you shitting me? That's-a that Ludwig kid you been-a telling me about all these years and he doesn't even remember you?" _Feli seemed embarrassed, trying to calm down his brother by tugging at his sleeve and low-voicedly telling him something in Italian, but the other would completely ignore his attempts and continue his rant. _"It's-a just like I told you. You know why I never came along with you and nonno to visit this-a German friend of his? Because Germany sucks and Germans suck and-a__ you better do not hang out with that potato bastard__."_

Now Feli was crying for real. Ludwig hesitantly put his hand on the boy's shoulder in an awkward attempt of consolation.

_"I-I'm very sorry…"_, he tried to find something to say, but he wouldn't, because he could barely explain to himself what must have happened in 1989. All he remembered was waking up in a hospital bed and everything being strange and new and unfamiliar, even those people that claimed to be his parents and his brother. _"B-but I'm sure we can be friends again."_

~ 1999 ~

"_Kiku said that he won't make it tonight, he need-a to cram for that test tomorrow", _Feliciano entered the rooms Ludwig shared with his brother, as usual without knocking or any other gesture of respecting the other's privacy.

"_Ant you are perfectly prepared?"_, Ludwig turned around from his desk, raising a brow. _"Not exactly"_, the Italian replied in a voice that sounded more like a plea than a statement, _"but I thought I just could-a do a little bit of copying from you again…" _Ludwig gave him a stern look. _"Zis attitude of yours really got to change. You shoult follow Kiku's example ant use ze evening for studying as vell." _Feliciano looked disappointed. _"But I really wanted to watch this film with-a you…"_

Something in the way his friend used to say this kind of thing always succeeded in making the German forget his otherwise so pronounced sense of duty. _"Vell, it's okay for tomorrow, I suppose" ,_ he gave in to Feli's unreasonable suggestion, _"but you got to promise me zat you will start to work harder from tomorrow on." _The Italian looked happy. _"Aye, sir"_, he exclaimed, doing a mock salute and giving Ludwig a quick thank-you-hug that made the tall blonde teenager wonder once again when, after all these years of getting used to it, this kind of behaviour that seemed to be so natural to his best friend had started to make him blush.

Feliciano put the film he had brought along into the video recorder. _"Say, Ludwig, when Lovi and Gilbert are graduating, can I move in here?" _Ludwig refrained from correcting his 'when' into an 'if'. _"You practically already do liff here, don't you?"_, he replied.

~ memories lost ~

Every year, little Ludwig would wait for summer to come with an eagerness other children all around the world would be waiting for Christmas or their birthday only. Summer holidays were the time when his mother Luise would take him all the way down from Frankfurt to Bavaria to visit his opa. He wouldn't be opa's only guest, though. It had become a tradition that opa's Italian friend would visit at the same time, together with his grandchild Feli who was just Ludwig's age.

"_Opa"_ and _"nonno"_ was all that Ludwig had ever called their grandfathers. In his young mind, these had been their proper names and he had never spent too much a thought on what they did apart from being grandfathers, sitting on opa's veranda, drinking wine and playing Risk all day long. His thoughts were more focused on Feli, his dearest friend, his _sandkastenliebe_, and he would enjoy every minute the two of them could spend together, being treated with lots of brezen and gelati by their grandfathers, playing in the fields adjoining opa's garden all day long and staying up until they could see the moon and the stars in the sky and it was time to go to bed.

_"Mohnblume"_, Ludwig explained, picking a bright red poppy and handing it to Feli, who already had a whole bunch of all kinds of wildflowers in her hands. The flowers, soon to be neatly arranged in one of opa's vases, were to be the objects of another watercolour painting – one of little Feli's favourite pastimes. And although Ludwig much preferred playing football or cops and robbers, he'd be gentlemen enough to let the lady choose their activities most of the time.

_"Papavero"_, Feli would reply with a wide smile and, as she did after almost any flower name that was exchanged between the two of them, break into a cheerful song that, Ludwig concluded, must have something to do with the named flower.

_"Lo sai che i papaveri son alti, alti, alti,  
e tu sei piccolina, e tu sei piccolina,  
lo sai che i papaveri son alti, alti, alti,  
sei nata paperina, che cosa ci vuoi far..."_

Ludwig caught himself staring at Feli, whose sweet voice appeared to be the most beautiful in the whole world to the little boy, absent-mindedly and with cheeks as red as the poppies they had just picked only when the little girl held a bunch of tiny bluish flowers directly in front of his nose. _"__Nontiscordardimé__"_, she exclaimed with a warm smile, her little hand offering the freshly picked flowers to Ludwig. Did she mean to give them to Ludwig as a present? He returned the smile shyly. _"Vergißmeinnicht"_, he explained as Feli continued her singing, _"Das werde ich niemals."_

_"E un giorno di maggio che dirvi non so,_  
_avvenne poi quello che ognuno pensò_  
_Papavero attese la Papera al chiaro lunar_  
_e poi la sposò._  
_Ma questo romanzo ben poco durò:_  
_poi venne la falce che il grano tagliò,_  
_e un colpo di vento i papaveri in alto portò._  
_Così Papaverino se n'e' andato,_  
_lasciando Paperina impaperata"_

~ 1999 ~

_"Feliciano"_, Ludwig whispered in a soft yet decided voice, trying to wake up his friend who had been asleep on his shoulder ever since three quarters of the film he had wanted to see so desperately had been over. _"Feliciano"_, he shook the other by the shoulder carefully.

_"Vee, is it over already?" ,_ Feli opened his eyes only the tiniest bit. _"I can sleep here, can't I, I'm-a way too tired to go home now." _

'Home', Feliciano's and Lovino's rooms, were only a few doors away from Ludwig's, but he knew the Italian would find an excuse to sleep at his place (or, more precisely, in his bed) at least three times a week and the German had long given up any attempts to prevent this. _"It's alright, I'll just go and get a blanket for you so you von't steal mine again." _

He hadn't got any more than a few steps away from the sofa, when suddenly the door swung open and a distinctive smell of Sangria mixed with beer, followed by Gilbert and Antonio bawling out something that sounded like _"SCHBIN DÄ KÖNISCH VON MALLORCAAAAA~" _swayingly entered the room. Not too unusual a scene, Ludwig guessed, automatically pressing his palm against his forehead and uttering a small sigh - except there was something missing…

_"Where's Francis?"_, he addressed his brother, expecting the worst, _"I hope you two haven't solt him again." _It wouldn't have been the first time poor old Fritz and Julchen had to come all the way from Berlin to put in a word for their mischief-maker son and spare him from being thrown out of school (Ludwig always tried his best to make up for his brother's doings in a personal act of solidarity by being extraordinarily commendable in everything he did, thus putting the Beilschmidt family back into a good light).

Gilbert let out an exuberant laugh. _"Au contraire, mon chère Louis"_, he imitated his French friend, trying to do something inexplicable with his finger that almost ended with it gouging out one of Ludwig's eyes (luckily he possessed good reflexes), _"He's somevhere between clout nine and sevenz heaven at ze moment!" _Antonio was rolling on the floor, laughing as if Gilbert had just said the funniest thing in the world. _"He – he-hee-heee"_ Gilbert couldn't repress his laughter either and Ludwig felt like waiting for ages until he finally finished his sentence _"-he asked Arthur if he'd go to ze prom viz him at ze pub, ant A-ha-haaa-he was so drunk zat he said YES!"_

Ludwig could only shake his head about this piece of information. First of all, how could Arthur, who for some reason was head of the student council, set such a bad example as to get drunk in the middle of a school week? Secondly, it was obvious that, once he had recovered from his inebriety, he would take back his answer, which would lead to another of Francis' infamous monologues of self-pity that even Ludwig had heard too many of already. (Thirdly, he had completely forgotten about that prom that was to be held in honour of the senior students.)

Busy with these thoughts, Ludwig must have overseen Antonio crawl to the sofa where Feliciano was lying half-asleep and take hold of his hands with a delightedly surprised expression in his face.

_"Lovino, my sweet tomato, I didn't know you were here, too." _

_"I'm not Lovino"_, Feli tried to explain sleepily, with a face that was somewhere between scared and amused, but Antonio was completely ignoring him.

_"Aah, you look so beautiful today, so kind and peatheful." _

_"Th-that's-a because I'm Feliciano, veh?" _

Antonio's face was moving closer to Feli's who unsuccessfully tried to move away from him on the sofa.

_"Now that Franthis got what he wanted, I might as well try my luck and ask you." _ He got in a kneeling pose in front of Feli, still holding his hands, _"Lovino Vargath, will you do me the honour and accompany me to the prom?" _

Even before Feli could start his desperate _"Ludwig, ve, vee, help me!" _, Ludwig had grabbed hold of the drunk Spaniard, who was lucky the person on the sofa was not the real Lovino, for this would have ended much worse for him, and was now dragging him into the direction of the door.

_"Okay, you two, zat's enough for tonight." _

He knew too well the kind of exhausting and time-consuming struggle it was to get the 'bad friends', as they called themselves, back into their beds. It would involve setting bait tomatoes and singing the _Sandmännchen_ song, amongst other techniques Ludwig had developed over the years.

~ 1996 ~

Ludwig and Feliciano were sitting on the grass, eating the pasta salad Feli had made, as they would do during lunch break on most of these bright blue summer days, this time without Kiku, who said he had something important to deal with this afternoon (Ludwig supposed it was beating the boss in one of these video games he was playing all of the time). The German hadn't failed noticing that his friend had been acting weird all day.

_"Ludwig, I-"_, he started in an unusually shy voice, _"this, this is-a Feliciano, I-"_

_"I won't forget you again"_, Ludwig stated factually.

Feliciano stared at him with a weird mixture of shock and surprise, joy and embarrassment in his face for a moment, before turning away his head and covering his face with his hands.

_"Wha-, ca-, can you read-a my mind?!"_, he heard him say in panic, _"Wait, I, I was-a just thinking some embarrassing things…"_

_"Shut up, I can't read your mind. I fount zis letter you vere just trying to quote." _

Feliciano looked relieved. _"A-and-a you promise you won't forget me?" _

_"Yes, yes"_, Ludwig reassured him, offering him his little finger.

_"Ah, you learned that from Kiku!" _, Feliciano happily joined with his.

_"I von't ever forget you and I von't leave you alone. It's a promise." _

They smiled at each other silently for a moment until Ludwig realised how hot his cheeks were suddenly feeling and rapidly removed his finger to search for something in his pocket.

_"I'd like you to have zis"_, he revealed a necklace with an iron cross pendant in his hand, _"I have ze same, vati gave it to me. He used to be a big shot in ze military, you know, and vould love to see me making my career in the Bundeswehr. Anyvay, i-it's gonna be our friendship pendant now." _He gestured with it towards Feli, who happily let the other put it on him. _"I-it's meant to remind you zat I'm thinking of you, okay?" _

Feliciano looked ridiculously happy, almost crying for joy.

_"Thank you so much, Ludwig"_, he cheered, hugging his friend so passionately that they would both fall onto the grass, Feliciano on top of Ludwig, arms around his neck.

They'd lie like this for what seemed several minutes, Ludwig noting for the first time how fast Feliciano was making his heart beat.

~ 1999 ~

Ludwig returned from his bad friends' bedtime mission stressed and tired only to discover that Feliciano had somehow managed to get out of his clothes and was lying, sound asleep again, on the couch, wearing nothing but his boxers and that iron cross pendant neither of the two had taken off even once ever since Ludwig had given it to him. It took him one long and absent-minded glance to decide he wouldn't let him spend the night on the sofa.

_"Feliciano"_, he tried waking him again, first softly, then louder and louder, but however he'd shout and however he'd shake him, the other would just continue breathing open-mouthedly and muttering _'vee'_s and something about pasta every now and then.

He didn't see much of a choice apart from lifting the light-weighted Italian up on his arms and carrying him to his bedroom, unable to not notice the increasing speed of his heartbeat while pressing his arms against the other's naked skin, yet overlooking the great foundation for inappropriate accusations he had prepared for his brother when he'd wake up the next morning by leaving Feli's clothes there, spread all around the sofa.

He had just carefully set down the other on his bed and set the alarm clock, ready to go out like a light, when he noticed Feli's voice talking to him.

_"Tell me, Ludwig, are you still planning to go for a Bundeswehr career when we've graduated?"_

_"No, I … I zink I'll try ant apply to a university right away." _

Feliciano seemed content. They'd talked about that topic several times and Feli had always been worried that they wouldn't be able to see each other anymore or that something terrible could happen to Ludwig if he contracted into the army.

_"You're the best"_, he smiled happily, surely knowing he was the only reason for Ludwig's change of mind. _"And do you think"_, he added more shyly, _"you'll be able to find a university where they also teach-a the arts?" _

_"I already fount one"_, Ludwig confessed, and at the same moment felt two arms wrapped around him. _"You're-a gonna be a great engineer. I'm sure you'll invent something super cool and efficient someday"_, Feliciano jubilated sleepily, causing the German to blush.

He'd almost fallen asleep in Feliciano's embrace when the other started talking again.

_"Ludwig, are … are we going to that prom?" _

Ludwig wondered why Feli was saying this so nervously.

_"It's our duty to go zere, it's being helt in honour of our brothers." _He asked himself whether Lovino would be there at all, though, or rather hide in a corner of his room grumblingly, if Antonio repeated his proposal to him in person.

_"No, I mean…"_ Feliciano started fumbling with Ludwig's fingers the way he sometimes would when he was being uneasy about something, _"a-are _we _going to the prom?" _

Ludwig needed a moment to get what the other was suggesting. Or, was he really suggesting what Ludwig thought he was? What if he wasn't and he would completely expose himself with his answer? How was he going to put his answer into words anyway? Would it feel weird to go the prom with Feliciano? Would the others stare and talk about them? Considering the far below-average female quota of this school, it wasn't too unusual a sight seeing two boys go to prom together. He couldn't dance though. Would he have enough time to learn? How long had he already been holding back his answer?

_"I-I-I-I'm sorry"_, Feliciano started to panic again, increasing the speed of his finger-fumbling as well as his speech, _"this was-a a stupid idea, wasn't it? O-of course we need-a to find some pretty girls to go to the prom with, it would be really weird if we'd go together, right? People would talk and stare. Wh-what was-a I even thinking? Please forget what I just said. You'd probably hate it, wouldn't you?" _

Ludwig tried to calm down. This was really happening. He took hold of Feliciano's hands, his grasp more secure than he would have expected, looking the other directly into the eyes.

_"No, I – I wouldn't hate it at all." _

The two of them stared into each other's eyes, still holding hands, for one long not at all awkward but, Ludwig supposed he was allowed to think of it as romantic now, moment, smiles growing wider, bodies moving closer in together. Feli wrapped his arms around Ludwig again, hiding his face in the other's shoulder.

Ludwig remembered he still hadn't got that extra blanket he wanted to get for him. Then again, this wouldn't be necessary anymore now, would it?

* * *

**annotations**

_vergißmeinnicht _(German) = forget-me-not (name of a flower)

_nonno _(Italian) = grandpa

_opa _(German) = grandpa

_sandkastenliebe_ (German) = sandbox love

_brezen_ (German) = a German snack similar to pretzels, but bigger and softer

_gelati _(Italian) = ice cream

_Mohnblume_ (German) = poppy

_papavero_ (Italian) = poppy

_'Lo sai che i papaveri...'_ (Italian) = lines from 'papaveri e papere', an Italian song popular in the 1950s*

_n__ontiscordardimé_ (Italian) = forget-me-not

_"Das werde ich niemals."_ (German) = I never will.

_"SCHBIN DÄ KÖNISCH VON MALLORCAAAAA~"_ = 'Ich bin der König von Mallorca', a German tourist drinking song about the named Spanish island (if you don't know it, DON'T google it, it's terrible and will be stuck in your head for weeks!)

_"Au contraire, mon chère Louis"_ (French) = On the contrary, my dear Ludwig

_Sandmännchen_ (German) = little sand man, a popular GDR TV character

_vati_ (German) = daddy

_Bundeswehr_ (German) = German army

* here's the full translation of the lines from 'papaveri e papere' used in the story (thanks to LullatheOtaku on DeviantArt!)

_You know, the poppies are tall, tall, tall  
and you are really small, and you are really small!  
You know, the poppies are tall, tall, tall  
you're born small (literally, 'ducky'), what can you do?_

And, on a day on May that I don't know,  
What everyone thought finally happened  
Poppy waited for Ducky under the moonlight  
and then he married her.  
But this romance lasted only a little:  
the scythe came and cut the wheat  
and the wind killed (literally 'brought up [to the sky]') the poppies.

Thus Poppy has left,  
leaving Ducky 'ducked'

(I really don't know what 'impaperata' means. it sure is a word that comes from 'papera' (ducky), but it doesn't make sense even in Italian. You can interpretate it as 'sad', 'lonely' or whatever. It's a word just meant to play with the assonance between papera and papavero (ducky and poppy) I hope you'll find this useful.)

**author's comments**

My first Hetalia fan fiction, some fluffy GerIta fluff for you! 3~

I basically tried to transfer the Chibitalia and HRE / Italy and Germany story from Axis Powers Hetalia into an alternate universe in which the Hetalia nations are normal human teenagers attending a boarding school.

If Ludwig's past is still somewhat mysterious after reading this, don't worry, that's on purpose. :3 Because there is gonna be a part two, written from Gilbert's perspective, that will include more of the Beilschmidt brothers' past, along with some childhood recollections of Gilbert himself and a portrayal of his feelings for a girl he, ironically enough, had taken to be a boy when they were younger. (...'And now you know the plot', as the Animianiacs would say.)

If I can keep up my motivation (you can help me by leaving comments ), there's even gonna be more parts of this story, each written from another character's perspective and telling their own little story...

By the way, I am, of course, not a native speaker of English, so _please_, if you spot anything unidiomatic, any grammar or expression mistakes, do correct me!

Thanks for reading, everyone! 3


	2. Paprika

**Forget-Me-Not**

Hetalia Academy AU

Chapter II

**Paprika**

Gilbert x Elizavéta (x Roderich triangle)

_scroll down for annotations_

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~ 1988 ~

Gilbert Beilschmidt had always been a fundamentally awesome child. Even at the age of six, he would rule over an impressive kingdom, a secret patch of wild nature in the middle of East Berlin that he used to roam proudly on the back of his magnificent horse called Blitz, never ignoring, of course, his brilliant father Fritz's most important pioneer's strategy which was wearing a safety helmet. He would gloriously defeat anyone trying to take over his empire in a breath-taking sword fight, a turbulent horse race or a wild chase from one of his kingdom's borders to the other.

That was until the day that an unknown challenger appeared, standing on top of a rock overlooking the whole place as if he had already been waiting for Gilbert to arrive. His looks were wild, long untamed hair tied into a loose ponytail, and he was speaking German with a bold accent, rolling Rs, long and dark vowels and stresses on the wrong syllables.

_"I'm Elizavéta the Hun!",_ he exclaimed with pride in his voice, _"I've come to conquer this place."_

_"Eliza-vhat?"_ Gilbert answered mockingly, trying to hide the fact he hadn't properly understood the foreign name. _"You're Hungarian, aren't you? I'll call you Paprika then!"_ He picked up a piece of wood that made a good sword from the ground and marched straight towards his enemy who copied his movement, ready to defend himself.

_"You can't tease me with that name, I like paprika"_, the other said, proud as ever, pointing his sword at Gilbert's throat too quickly even for him to react. _"What is your name?"_

_"I'm Gilbert the Awesome, I rule this place"_, he replied, not at all intimidated by the blade on his skin, _"and I've never lost a single fight against an offender."_ It took him a split second to duck, thus escaping from the other's sword, and use the moment of surprise to thrust the Hungarian to the ground, keeping him down with his weapon.

_"Today will be different, then"_, the challenger grinned, doing a striking roll to the side and rising up to his feet to take a fighting position again.

_"I'm impressed by your abilities"_, Gilbert commented, demonstrating his superiority, _"This is probably gonna be the hardest battle I've ever fought."_

And indeed it would be. The two children would combat mercilessly, using their swords and their martial arts skills, chasing each other, building traps or doing a surprise attack when the other was inattentive for a moment. Sometimes it seemed as if Gilbert would win the battle, sometimes as if Paprika would, and when they were both lying on the grass, each of them out of breath and with scratches and bruises upon their arms and legs, they realised that the sun had already started to set and that the day was about to end without a result being achieved.

_"You'll be there to play again tómorrow?"_ , Paprika asked, his face displaying a new kindness that must have been hidden behind his mask of combat all of the time, _"The rightful ruler of this kingdom is still to be found."_

_"You know, Paprika"_, Gilbert said in his most important and generous-sounding voice, _"I've come to think that, if you ask me very politely, it might be possible that the two of us rule this kingdom together. I mean, just imagine, we'd be practically invincible!"_

_"You're just áfraid of losing your kingdom, aren't you?"_ , the other grinned. Damn Hungarian could read his mind. _"I'll ágree anyway. Ruling tógether sounds more fun than playing álone all the time." _

Gilbert rose to his feet, content with his brilliant idea. He reached out his hand to help the other get up as well. _"See you tómorrow then, Gilbert the Awesome"_, Paprika smiled, _"And you better bring a spade, this kingdom needs a fortress with a moat áround it."_

~ 1999 ~

Thanks to his genius spying abilities, Gilbert had secretly observed Elizavéta enter the school hall. No-one would be in there at this time of day. This was his big chance. He was going to ask her today.

He felt enthusiastic when he opened the double door (both sides, just for the effect), finding Elizavéta seated on one of the chairs in there, all on her own. Indeed, he was so sure of success that he could even hear a festive and heroic hymn loud and clear in his head.

_"Paprika, king of ze Huns!"_ , he addressed her from afar, knowing this name would never fail to put a smile on her face. He approached her with majestic steps, sitting down on the chair next to hers. His plan was bullet-proof, one simple dialogue he had planned in his head with military precision, considering every possible answer that Elizavéta could give in the course of their conversation, any of them leading to a comprehensive victory for Gilbert the Awesome.

_"Vhat you're doing here all alone?"_ , he started, doing his best to sound casual and not let her get suspicious all too quickly. The Hungarian's smile grew into a grin. _"Don't tell me you're so self-ábsorbed that you haven't noticed."_ She pointed to the other side of the hall, where Roderich Edelstein was sitting in front of a piano, and Gilbert realised at an instant that the music he had been hearing all this time was not at all inside his head._ "Roderich asked me to come and listen to some of the stuff he's going to play at the prom."_

There it was, the stupid-Austrian-wunderkind-shaped bullet hitting his scheme, all of his mastermind planning blown to smithereens. But retreat was no option for Gilbert Beilschmidt. He'd need to improvise now.

_"Ze prom, huh?"_ , he stared into her eyes challengingly, _"You already have someone to go wiz?"_ _"Not yet"_, she said plainly, avoiding his gaze, but with a hint of red covering her cheeks. _"Of course an awesome girl like you needs an awesome dancing partner. How about you go wiz me?"_

Darn, that was too quick. Not at all the magnificently staged thing he'd had in mind. Elizavéta's reaction was unexpected, too. He thought he'd seen the corner of her mouth twitching and her cheeks grow slightly more red, just a split second before her expression became completely serious again and she took a breath, eyes fixed somewhere in the distance.

_"I – I'll tell you tómorrow, okay?"_ Her usually so natural smile seemed fake this time. Gilbert had to take a gulp. Yes, his invitational speech hadn't been as awesome as it should, still he had expected a different result. He studied Elizavéta's face, hoping to find an explanation, and suddenly understood where her eyes had really been fixed all this time.

_"Vhat, vhat, vhat? You're vaiting for _him_ to ask you?!"_

_"See, I'm not-"_

Oh no, he didn't even want to hear her explanation. This was unacceptable. He'd never lose to that idiot. He took a moment to collect his thoughts and finally came up with another genius idea. All was fair in love and war, right? _"Do me a favour and spare yourself ze embarrassment, okay?",_ he said in an attempt to sound caring, _"You shoult have noticed by now zat Rod over zere isn't interestet in girls."_

_"What makes you think that?"_ Elizavéta looked irritated. She might have risen to the bait._ "Come on, just have a look at ze vay he moves, ze vay he talks, ze vay he dresses. I bet if I walked over zere and gave him a kiss on his hand, he'd say something like 'How charming of you, Gilbert!'"_ Elizavéta had to suppress a laugh about Gilbert's masterly imitation of the Austrian. _"Sometimes I have the feeling like I'm the only hetero guy in this whole school, no kidding."_

_"Now you're éxaggerating. Who else do you know for sure is gay?"_ All of a sudden, her eyes lit up in anticipation. That girl had the strangest fascination with gay guys.

_"Vell, just my brozer and my two best friends"_, Gilbert answered with a shrug, _"I can't blame zem, zough, zey vouldn't have a chance wiz ze chicks wiz an awesome dude like me at ze same school."_ Also, thinking about the girls at this school – the girls except for _Paprika _that was – they all were pussies, weren't they, cute little princesses without much brains who didn't make it all too hard to imagine why his brother had decided for a boy as the object of his affections instead. (Thinking about it again, 'pussy' and 'cute little princess without much brains' weren't that far from accurate descriptions of Feliciano, either.)

_"Mh, I guess sometimes it's better to give up than keep aiming for something you can never reach."_ What was that now? Why was Elizavéta all of a sudden being all serious again and talking cryptically? Was she talking about someone in particular, about herself, or just generally speaking? He hated when people did that. _"Nonsense, only a loser vould zink like zat!"_ , he countered enthusiastically, _"Me, I'd always fight for ze girl I love!"_ As little as he thought of those kitschy sayings, maybe Elizavéta really was that one in a million, that girl you only met once in your lifetime, the one his life would be one giant awesome adventure with, the only one he could ever imagine growing old with. He meant what he said.

_"As long as you don't let it get béyond the point where it bécomes masochism, that's an ádmirable attitude, I súppose"_ Oh well, if masochism included Elizavéta in high heel leather boots with a whip in her hand putting him into chains, he wouldn't mind that at all. Not at all.

_"What's that look on your face?"_ , Elizavéta shamelessly interrupted his phantasies, _"You thinkin' something pervy? Masochism, huh?"_ Damn Hungarian could read his mind. _"Who you thinking about? Ludwig?"_ Now it was clearly _her_ who had the pervy grin on her face. _"Vhat? Are you crazy?! He's my brozer!"_ What the hell was going on in that girl's kinky head? Not that he didn't want to find out… _"Not bíologically"_, she answered smart-assedly and much to Gilbert's panic. She was the only one who knew. _"Sh! I tolt you you can't talk about zat in public!"_ , he countered with authority in his voice, which, however, didn't seem to impress the other too much. _"You're just afraid that if he found out, he wouldn't side with you so loyally ánymore, aren't you?"_ , she grinned knowingly. Sometimes it could be scary how, despite the very rare intimate conversations they had, Elizavéta was able to read even his most secret fears and feelings. Scary, yes, but did that mean he hated it?

~ 1989 ~

_11 November 1989_

_Dear Paprika,_

_the weirdest things happened in the last two days. Not the big thing about the Berlin wall, you've probably seen that on TV, but also something about my family. I've never told you about my aunt Luise, because she lived in the West and I'd never met her. Last night, she died in a car accident on the autobahn to Berlin. Vati and mutti are really sad. They say after she heard the news, she probably wanted to come and see us as quickly as possible. She wasn't married, but her little son Ludwig was in the car with her. He is now in a coma and the doctors say he will survive, but it is possible that when he wakes up he will have lost his memory. Mutti says we have to pretend to be his real family so it will be easier for him. This means I am going to be a big brother. I'm very excited about it! I'll do my best to do an awesome job._

_Hope we can meet in the holidays,_

_Gilbert the Awesome_

~ 1999 ~

_"I cordially zank you for sacrificing your precious time to listen to my humble presentation, dearest Elizavéta. I hope you did enjoy it"_, Roderich was approaching them, smiling just like the arrogant snob that he was, and much to Gilbert's disgust Elizavéta made some equally slimy comment on his music. _"And it seems I had anozer listener."_

_"I haven't been here for your strumming, zough"_, Gilbert replied monosyllabically. No need to let his enemy in on his plans for the prom. _"Zhen I assume you von't be here for ze dancing lesson, either. If you vould excuse us."_ The Austrian raised a brow to him, putting a hand on Elizavéta's shoulder, thus leading her to the other half of the school hall, where there were no chairs and enough room for the entire student body to waltz around.

_"Vha-vha-vhat dancing lesson?"_ , Gilbert interrupted them. He wouldn't leave those two alone together, hell no! _"Roderich was so kind and ágreed to teach me how to waltz for the prom"_, Elizavéta explained. What the heck, why hadn't she told him earlier? Anyways, if there was to be a dancing class, he would be part of it and prove to Elizavéta he was more fun to dance with than four-eyes over there.

_"Roddy, vould you mind me joining ze dancing class?"_ He knew Roddy hated that name, _"I have to admit I'm completely out of practice and I don't want to ruin your concert by making a fool out of myself on the dancefloor and attracting all ze attention."_ The Austrian knew Gilbert's ability of sabotaging social events too well in order not to get this subtle threat.

_"Vell, I can't say no to zat now, can I?"_ , he gave him an annoyed look over the edge of his glasses, _"You'll have to be second, zough, ladies first."_

_"Ja, ja, vhatever"_, he planted himself on the floor just where he was standing and earned a grinning shake of the head from Elizavéta. Of course Mister Austrian-smarty-pants had to give a lengthy talk about the history and the different kinds of waltz, on how to feel the rhythm and become one with the music, but never forget your posture, bla bla, and lots of other boring stuff first before getting to the practical part. Gilbert only listened half-heartedly every now and then, making yawning noises, which Roderich seemed to purposely ignore. He almost missed when the actual dancing began, as in the middle of the Austrian's speech he had decided to rather focus his attention on Elizavéta's legs, covered by nothing but one of those ridiculously short school uniform skirts, on which he had a good view from his sitting position on the floor.

_"Gilbert!"_ , Roderich's annoyed voice successfully made him focus his attention on the 'main event' again, _"Now zis may be interesting for you. If you vant to ask a lady for a dance, you might do it like zis" _He made a few stick-up-his-arse-steps towards Elizavéta, did a ridiculous bow asking _"May I have the honour?"_ and took her hand to kiss it. That part wasn't that funny. Elizavéta seemed to find it funny, though, as she couldn't suppress a giggle. _"Is somezing vrong?"_ , four-eyes asked confusedly. _"No"_, the Hungarian continued her giggling, _"It's just you have crazy soft hands. I mean, even cómpared with most girls..."_ Roderich's face seemed to redden. _"Vell, you don't get rough hands from playing ze piano, I suppose"_, he tried to preserve his honour. Totally gay!

Their dancing was unexpectedly entertaining. Elizavéta would repeatedly tread on Roderich's feet, every single instant causing Gilbert to utter a laugh of schadenfreude, and, once she had mastered the basics, she obviously had troubles not to take the lead and guided the Austrian several times all around the dance floor to the classical music from the stereo he had brought along. What a pussy! Gilbert wouldn't make a fool out of himself like that. He hadn't told anyone so far, but in fact, as soon as the topic of the prom had come up, Francis had insisted on teaching Antonio and him a number of standard dances, the results of which were not to be sneezed at. Anyway, he was going to dance with a real girl – not any girl, but Elizavéta – in a few minutes time and would impress her as well as that Austrian schmuck with his awesome dancing skills. Speaking of which, these two had been waltzing along the other side of the hall for quite some time now, this was starting to get boring. And were they talking to each other? What were they talking about, dammit? Roderich wouldn't be asking her to go to the prom with him, would he?

_"Hey"_, he yelled across the room, successfully catching their attention and making them stop their waltz as well as conversation, _"zat looks good enough, vhat about _my_ dancing lesson?"_ They both walked over to him. _"Yes, yes, you're right"_, Roderich displayed surprisingly little rejection, _"You're free to take a seat, then, dear"_, he meaningfully touched Elizavéta's arm. What?! Gilbert jumped to his feet. _"Vhat the-?! I'm not gonna-"_

_"You'll have to understand it's easier for me to teach you zis vay"_, Roderich smirked. Gilbert had never hated him more than at this very moment. Alright, if he wanted gay, he was gonna get gay. After all, he'd been taught dancing _by Francis_, he knew what he was talking about. He was gonna feed that suspicion he had raised in Elizavéta before.

_"Alright then, princess"_, he made a few determined steps towards his dancing partner, _"Let's check vhat I've learned today. May I have ze honour?"_ He did a little bow and then took Roderich's hand, kissing it only the tiniest bit more intensely than was necessary. He could literally see the heat rise into the other's face, though he wasn't quite sure whether out of anger or embarrassment. _"Th-that's very charming of you, Gilbert"_ Roderich replied irritatedly, and Gilbert allowed himself a quick glance at Elizavéta, seated on a chair nearby, who had been staring at him in disbelief this whole time and now had to put a hand over her mouth in order not to burst out laughing at this weird kind of déjà vu.

He was only getting started, though, forcefully bringing himself and his partner into position, drawing his lips closer to the other's ear and speaking in lowered voice. _"Vant it slow or Viennese?"_ He was clearly succeeding to get the Austrian, whose cheeks were all hot and red by now, completely flustered. _"I-I'd say ve start vith ze Slow Valtz, ja?"_ He'd never heard him speak with such insecurity, this whole thing was actually starting to be fun. _"Elizavéta,_ dear_"_, Gilbert addressed their spectator, mocking the Austrian's way of talking, _"Vould you mind starting ze music for me?"_ Oh, this was war.

And just as expected, he was able to score with his dancing. He managed to lead Roderich around the hall in neat little spirals, making sure to hold his hand a bit too tightly and dance a bit too close all of the time. Hell, he even made him turn like a little ballerina several times, this was absolutely priceless! Elizavéta's gazes were priceless, too, he was completely positive that she was lost in the middle of one of her boy-on-boy-action-daydreams right now. Didn't feel bad to know he was being part of one of her dirty phantasies either.

_"I have to admit I'm surprised at ze vay you dance"_, Roderich panted, still seemingly irritated by his behaviour, but not daring to do anything about it. Time to make it worse. He got close to the other's ear again, lowering his voice to almost a whisper, while subtly caressing his back. _"I zought you'd like zis. You know, Roderich"_, he'd never called him by his actual name before, _"I might even ask you to be my company for the ball."_ Now the other was starting to stumble, thrown completely out of his rhythm, and their dance came to a sudden end. Shit, he'd probably overdone it. What a sight, though. What a victory.

_"Y-you know I von't be able to do any dancing at ze ball, Gilbert. I'll be playing ze piano the whole time."_ The heck, what?!

~ 1989 ~

In the summer of 1989, the Prusso-Hungarian kingdom of Gilbert the Awesome and Paprika the Hun was flourishing, their fortress was the most impressive far and wide, their combat skills were feared throughout the country and they even had a banana plantation and a chicken farm (just for the eggs, of course, Gilbert could never have eaten one of those adorable little creatures - not that he was the type to find stuff _adorable_ - little chicks were the only exception) to make sure no-one in their kingdom had to go hungry.

Tonight, Gilbert was staying at Paprika's place. He had an awesome bunk bed they had built a cave of with the help of some blankets. _"Hey, Gilbert, have you ever watched West Gérman TV?"_ , Paprika asked challengingly. _"Of course not, that's illegal"_, he replied conscientiously. Vati had taught him how important it was to be conscientious about things like these. _"Not for Hungarians"_, Paprika countered with a grin, _"Wanna watch Sandmännchen?"_

Why watch _Sandmännchen_ on West-TV when he could watch it on normal TV as well, Gilbert wondered, but still followed Paprika to the living room out of curiosity. He switched on the TV just in time for the opening song. Gilbert's eyes grew wide.

This wasn't Sandmännchen.

That Sandmännchen guy looked completely different from the Sandmännchen he knew. He was sturdier built, with his blonde hair slicked back neatly instead of the awesome fuzzy white nest his Sandmännchen had on his head, and, holy crap, was he tidying up that nursery he was visiting?! Ha, East Sandmännchen was way more awesome! That story about a big fat pig and a little fat pig was lame, too. _"This sucks"_, was the only comment he could make and Paprika was about to switch off the TV again when his father entered the room. _"Hey, I made palacsinta, you kids are hungry?"_

Mr Héderváry looked a lot like his son, his brown hair tied into a pony tail slightly more tidy than Paprika's, and decorated with a weird flower. _'Is your daddy a hippie?'_, Gilbert had once asked his friend, who had answered that he just liked gardening. Paprika didn't have a mommy anymore. Gilbert often wondered if he missed her a lot, but he didn't want to ask.

Those pancakes Paprika's daddy made were delicious and the children had eagerly finished their plates and wanted to hurry off back to their cave again, when the normally so light-hearted Hungarian asked them to stay for a moment with an unusually serious voice. _"We're not gonna get in trouble, are we?"_ , little Gilbert asked with a whiff of panic in his voice. They had, in fact, done enough worth getting in trouble for during the last days. _"No, I-"_, Mr Héderváry seemed almost sad, and Paprika knew what he was going to talk about, for he was lowering his head as well, _"See, I know you two have bécome really good friends during the last year and I feel very sorry, but Elizavéta and I will be moving ágain. I got a really good job offer as a gardener for a rich lady and her son in Vienna. That's a lot better than working in that Spreewaldgurken factory here. You'll still have a month to say góod-bye úntil we go." _

Gilbert wanted to say something, but he couldn't. This would be the first and only time Paprika – or anyone except his family – had seen him cry. He wasn't able to say a word or do anything at all until later they were lying each on one of the bunks of Paprika's bed. _"I'm sorry"_, he heard Paprika's remorseful voice from above. _"It's not fair"_, he answered, _"You're my best friend, I won't let you go." _

_"I don't want to go, either."_ Suddenly, his fighting spirits were all back again. _"Come on, then!"_ He climbed up the ladder to his friend's bunk who gave him a quizzical look. _"We're running away!"_

And so they did, out of the window, down the downpipe (three floors! – and they made it _almost_ unharmed), into the night, hiding in the fortress at the heart of their kingdom, the kingdom neither of them was willing to give up. They talked about how Austria would completely suck, how that rich lady would probably be a mean old witch and her son a piano-playing nerd wearing glasses and a dinner jacket, for more than an hour, until it got really cold and they weren't too unhappy to be discovered by a man in uniform who brought them back home.

One month later they were standing in front of Mr Héderváry's jam-packed green Lada. This time it was Paprika who had tears in his eyes. He had taken Gilbert's hand, unwilling to get into the car, where his father was already waiting, ready to start the engine. _"Take good care of our kingdom while I'm áway, will you?"_ , he squeezed the other's hand. _"I'll do my best"_, Gilbert replied cheerlessly, _"I'm gonna miss you, Paprika. I've never had a friend like you."_

_"I'm gonna miss you, too, Gilbert"_, Paprika gave him a sad smile, followed by a kiss on his cheek, then hurried to open the car's door and take his seat. Gilbert's heart skipped a beat. _"Are you nuts? That's gay!"_ , he finally managed to say.

_"I'm a girl, idiot!"_ , Paprika countered through the car's open window. Gilbert needed a moment to realise what he – what _she_ had just said, then his perplexed expression grew into a wide smile. _"I'm gonna write you, I promise!" _

~ 1999 ~

_"You look stunning"_ was all Gilbert was able to say when he saw Elizavéta in her prom dress. It had an almost historical look, a wide hoop-skirt-supported bottom with an off-the-shoulder top part, and she had pinned up her hair in an unusually feminine manner. _"Like Kaiserin Elisabeth herself."_ Who was German, not Austrian, by the way. _"Thank you"_, she smiled, _"You look – interesting."_

_"Vhat, you're not impressed by my awesome chicklet tie?"_ , he grinned. _"Just look at zese cute little chicks, aren't zey adorable?"_ Yes, he still found little chicks adorable. _"Did you lose a bet or something?"_ , she shook her head, suppressing a grin as well. _"I, dear lady"_, he offered her his arm, _"am in the process of _winning_ a bet."_ _"Let me guess"_, she concluded, _"the loser will have to wear this chicklet tie."_

_"Zat's right, which will be Antonio and Fran-"_, he stopped himself from talking as they entered the school hall, realising what the catch with this bet was. And speaking of the devil, there he was – Francis, who had apparently found a surrogate date for the ball, and a female one, too, that Belgian girl, Bella. Francis was popular after all, even though he sometimes tended to forget that his friend actually did like women as well. He had definitely expected Bella to be Antonio's or Lovino's surrogate in case either of those didn't find company, though, as these three were hanging out together quite regularly. Which could only mean that … He scanned the room, trying to make out any of the two, but to no avail.

Elizavéta on his arm was still giggling about his bet. _"It was a good choice to go with you after all"_, she smiled as the orchestral music - led by Roderich's piano - started to play. _"May I have ze pleasure, zen?"_ , Gilbert offered his hand and, as she put hers into it, placed a kiss on it. This felt so different from kissing Roddy's – although he had to admit that the latter did have the softer skin. The dancing went surprisingly natural, he didn't have to force Elizavéta into every movement like Roderich, and she only tried to take the lead once or twice during their first dance. In order not to be staring at her all the time (that dress sure was daringly décolleté), he looked around the room a bit, trying to spot familiar faces.

The first he did spot was his brother's, trying his hardest to suppress that foolish smile on his face while dancing, stiff as a poker, with his Italian _girlfriend_. Gilbert hardly realised he had that exact same foolish smile on his own face. Also, there was Francis again, dancing with – wait a moment, that wasn't Bella. Was that Alfred Jones?! No, that couldn't be. Even if Francis had somehow gotten Alfred - one of the few guys at this school Gilbert had always taken to be hetero (or, at least, asexual or something) - to do the opening dance with him, there was no way these two could look so freaking harmonic together. Hell, Francis was even running his fingers through the other's hair, whispering stuff in is ear. He looked around the room and found Alfred Jones in front of the cold buffet with some snack in his hand, right next to Arthur, who apparently hadn't found a companion after he had given Francis a brush-off, and had already started to empty one of the punchbowls at great speed. He looked back at Francis and his dancing partner. _"Do you know if Alfred Jones from Ludwig's year has a twin brozer?"_ , he asked Elizavéta, who followed his gaze into Francis' direction. _"I'm not sure…"_, she answered, puzzled herself.

They danced for another couple of songs, everything was going extremely well, Elizavéta was even starting to dance closer. _"This is fun, isn't it"_, she stated with a smile on her face, _"I wouldn't have thought you were the type to énjoy dancing."_ Probably true, unless it was with _her_. Still, there was one thing that had been on Gilbert's mind for days now, and he just had to ask her.

_"When I asked you to be my date for prom and you said zat you'd tell me ze next day, you knew zat Roderich vouldn't be able to go viz you, didn't you?"_ Elizavéta nodded. She was avoiding his gaze again. _"So vhy did you make me vait?"_ He could see her drawing a breath to formulate her answer, then discard it again. _"That's none of your business, Gilbert" _That was harsh. _"I have the right to know"_, he insisted. Elizavéta hesitated again, but his glare eventually succeeded to make her talk. _"Álright then"_, she looked annoyed, _"I wanted to make sure Roderich is okay with it."_ He froze in his motion, thus bringing their dance to a halt. What kind of a game was this? Roderich wasn't her boyfriend after all, or anything of that kind. She must have noticed his distraught look, as she immediately started to apologise, nervously patting his arm, _"I'm sorry, it's just … My dad and Roderich's mom are going to marry, I couldn't fórgive myself if I did anything to break family peace."_ So that was the reason? _"Zen he was okay wiz it?"_ That guy was gay after all.

Gilbert brought the two of them into posture again, starting a new dance with the newly beginning piece of music. _"He wasn't"_, Elizavéta stated, _"But I said I'd go with you anyway."_ Gilbert furrowed his brows. _"You're lying."_ Elizavéta smiled a mischievous smile. _"Ábout what I said, not ábout what I did."_ Sometimes he wasn't able to make head nor tail of that girl. _"Was zat vhat you vere talking about during ze dancing lesson?"_ , he tried to follow and Elizavéta confirmed, _"So, vhat did you tell him, zen?"_

_"I told him you like boys"_, Elizavéta grinned, _"He didn't bélieve me, of course, so he décided to find out and do the dancing with you himself. You did a marvellous job on cónvincing him."_ That girl was the devil. Touché! _"Zad explains ze veird looks he was giving me all veek long… I had ze feeling he did enjoy our dancing, zough." "He said it felt humiliating"_, the Hungarian laughed, _"álthough he doesn't dény the fact that he has a bi-curious streak."_ Ha! He knew it. Did that mean those two actually talked about intimate stuff like that? He decided not to spend too much thought on that for the moment. _"Care for a drink?"_ , Elizavéta dragged him to the buffet when the music ended.

_"You neet to make sure to trink enough, Feliciano, or else you're gonna dehytrate from ze dancing"_, he heard Ludwig say when they arrived at the cold buffet, as he was adjusting the Italian's tie and handing him another glass of non-alcoholic punch. How romantic! _"Vhat, no beer on zis buffet?"_ , Gilbert pointed out disappointedly and poured a glass of the _real_ punch, which was already almost empty thanks to a certain Englishman, for Elizavéta and himself each. He still hadn't been able to spot either Antonio or Lovino, only Francis again, who – _quelle surprise!_ – apparently had got rid of that Alfred Jones doppelganger and was now standing right next to them, letting that Seychellois exchange student feed him some gross-looking fish dish from the cold buffet. _"Nozzing more exciting zan spending zee evening wiz an exotique beauty like 'er"_, he commented to Gilbert while he pulled the giggling girl closer towards him, relishing in the smell of her hair. _"Nozing but spending it wiz zree or four beauties, huh?"_ , Gilbert grinned conspiratorially and got back a winking _"I 'ave no idea vhat you are talking about, Shilbère."_

While he had been talking to Francis as well as Feliciano, who didn't know the whereabouts of his brother either, _for he had-a been much too excited about his date with-a Ludwig, vee, veee~_, Gilbert's own date must have emptied several glasses of punch, as she was starting to get all red in the face, exclaiming that _"This stuff is freaking delicious!"_ and, with an energy that even exceeded her usual temper, dragged him back to the dancefloor. _"So, you basically tricked Roderich into letting you go wiz me?"_ , he resumed their previous topic, for, thinking about it again, this whole thing made him feel like a great success (or, at least, made Roderich look like a loser, which was basically the same thing). _"It's not like he has a say ányway"_, she laughed tipsily, _"I just wanted to know. And now I do."_ Despite talking slightly inebriated, that girl still was amazingly secure on her feet. _"Vhat do you know?" "Oh, that he would have asked me óf course."_ Gilbert didn't like the joy she said that with. _"He told you zat?"_ She nodded. _"During your dancing lesson?"_ She nodded again. _"Oh, zen it is quite clear zat he vould have taken back everyzing as soon as ve'd had _our_ dancing lesson"_, the German stated with fake pride, _"He vas obviously completely taken in by me."_ Elizavéta laughed again, then suddenly switched to a familiar fighting-spirit-expression. Paprika the Hun! _"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Gilbert the Awesome"_, she stared into his eyes challengingly. _"Vh-vhat, are ve having a battle for Austria's vital regions now, or somezing?"_ This time the Hungarian's fit of laughter almost threw them out of their rhythm. _"No"_, out of the blue she wrapped her arms around Gilbert's neck unexpectedly gently, _"actually, tonight it is just the two of us."_ Gilbert didn't know what had happened, but he _liked_ this. They were dancing so close now, this was bliss, this was what he deserved for having been such an _awesome_ boy. His arms around her body, caressing her back, her hair, the naked skin of her neck and shoulders. Then, without words, their faces moving slowly towards each other, eyes closed, their lips almost touching,

Roderich's voice, clearing his throat, over a microphone.

Elizavéta immediately shrank back, taking a step backwards.

_"Zis last piece of music I am going to play tonight vill be one zat I composed myself. It is a Csárdás I wrote for a girl I vish I could have danced viz tonight. I hope you vill enjoy."_

As the music, Roderich's piano accompanied by strings, was setting in, Elizavéta stared at Gilbert as if in shock, eyes wide open, a hand on her mouth.

_"I-I'm sorry Gilbert"_, she whispered, then turned away to look at Roderich, playing a song just for her.

That music was beautiful as hell, altering between slow and fast, loud and quiet, pensive and vivacious, laughing and crying. Had Roderich composed it for Gilbert, even he would have fallen in love with him.

He glanced at Elizavéta bitterly. Her lips were smiling the widest smile he had ever seen, but there were tears running down her cheeks.

_"I'm very sorry"_, he heard her say, still avoiding his eyes, while she hurried off to meet the Austrian the second the music ended.

_Verfluchte Scheiße_, damn you Roderich Edelstein! Damn you and your girlishly soft artist's hands and your bloody piano of doom! Damn everything.

Gilbert hurried to leave the hall, no need to change the fact no-one except Paprika had ever seen – and had ever made – him cry.

The Austrian may have won this battle, alright, but this war wasn't over yet. Not by any means.

* * *

**annotations**

_Paprika_ (German) = paprika / pepper (vegetable)

_Blitz_ (German) = literally 'lightning', brand name of a GDR children's bike

_Vati, mutti_ (German) = daddy, mommy

_Sandmännchen_ = There were two different Sandmännchen (= little sand man) TV mascots presenting bedtime stories for children in East and West Germany. After the German reunification, the GDR Sandmännchen replaced the West-German one on all TV stations, because it was more popular.

_Spreewaldgurken_ = pickled cucumber brand

_Verfluchte Scheiße_ = not very nice German swearing phrase : )

* * *

**author's comments**

And now for some PruHun / FryingPangle. :D

I enjoyed writing these two, I imagine them to be very witty people. xD

Some trivia in case you haven't noticed: The mommies and daddies (with the exception of Old Fritz) in this story are, of course, the Nyotalia versions of the countries.

Again, I am not a native speaker of English, so please, if you spot anything unidiomatic, any grammar or expression mistakes, do correct me!


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